Triumphant (Genesis Fleet, The)

by Jack Campbell

  “He was a Calot, ma’am. Entry-level strong arm. But instead of trying to get a spot on an enforcement team, he went for a low-prestige, low-chance-of-promotion assignment guarding warehouses.” Moon grinned. “Because he was smart enough to know that’d let him get to know the people running the shuttles smuggling goods, so he could work out an escape from Mars.”

  “And keep his hands clean until he did get off-world?” Rob asked.

  “Yes, sir. Believe me, we screened Yuri Oshiro so thoroughly that we could’ve spotted if his mother ever told a lie.” Moon gave them both a reassuring smile. “Marines are rarely recruited from the ranks of angels, but it doesn’t matter what they were before. We make ’em Marines, and then they’re all equal. Well, equal to other Marines, that is.”

  Rob returned the smile. “Thank you, Gunnery Sergeant. Go ahead with setting up the link so Oshiro can assist in the interrogation, and either you or Captain Darcy let me know if there are any problems or concerns.”

  The call ended, Rob looked at Vicki Shen, who shook her head.

  “It’s hard to trust a Red,” she said. “But the crews of the warships ranged against us include men and women hired from former Earth Fleet personnel. Just like me. You’d have every reason not to trust me, wouldn’t you?”

  “That’s what happened to Danielle Martel,” Rob said. “She died fighting for Glenlyon, and even that didn’t satisfy some people.”

  “Like President Chisholm?”

  “President Chisholm,” Rob said, choosing his words carefully, “took a while to make up her mind about Danielle. But she’s ordered that Lieutenant Martel’s name be included in the official histories. If you haven’t figured this out about Glenlyon’s president, she’s both smart and determined. Smart enough to know that ethical behavior, treating people right, pays off in the long run. She’ll make compromises when she thinks it’s necessary, but I’m still in command of Saber because President Chisholm made the decision to overrule everyone who wanted to fire me for leaving Glenlyon undefended while we saved Kosatka.”

  “That’s true,” Vicki Shen said, smiling. “It’s her fault I’m not in command of Saber!”

  “Yeah. She owes you one.” Rob glanced at his display, shifting to a wide view of the entire star system. “I wonder what’s next? At Kosatka, they followed up their other attacks with a big strike.”

  “Hopefully they can’t swing a big strike after their losses at Kosatka.” Shen paused, her expression sober. “But even if they can’t launch another invasion of Kosatka right away, they might have enough to hit us hard.”

  “See if we can get those final repairs done a little faster. If those terrorist attacks were a precursor to something else, we might need Saber at one hundred percent a lot sooner than we’d hoped.”

  Less than two hours later, Rob winced as another alarm sounded, this one from Saber’s own sensors. He stared at his display as more information accumulated from the sensors aboard both the ship and the orbital facility. “Damn.”

  As commander of Glenlyon’s space forces he had a special link, direct to President Chisholm. Rob tapped the link and waited.

  Chisholm’s image appeared in a small box on one corner of his display. “What is it?”

  “We’ve got company. About four and a half hours ago, two enemy warships arrived at the jump point from Jatayu.”

  “Two?” Chisholm paused, her expression fixed, but thoughts swirling behind her eyes. “You can hold off two, can’t you?”

  “If it was two destroyers like Saber, maybe,” Rob said. “But one of the enemy ships is a light cruiser.”

  “A light cruiser?” Chisholm sighed. Rob noticed the background of her image. She was out in the open somewhere. He spotted the corner of a familiar-looking building, and realized she was visiting the ground forces headquarters in a show of support and resolve. “They’re planning to bombard us. How much damage can they do?”

  “If they have concentrated targets, a lot of damage. The bombardment projectiles will destroy anything they hit. But they can’t do wide-area damage, so they’ll aim for targets such as critical manufacturing sites, government offices, and groups of military forces. I’ll do everything I can to disrupt their actions,” Rob said.

  “Disrupt. You can’t stop it?”

  “Barring a miracle, no. Not against those odds.” Another alarm sounded. Rob watched a third symbol appear, that of a freighter, more data scrolling into place next to it. “A freighter arrived on the heels of the warships. It’s modified to carry a lot of people.”

  “A troop carrier?” President Chisholm frowned. “Only one?”

  “No more have shown up yet,” Rob said.

  “They used, what, a dozen troop ships to invade Kosatka?”

  “Roughly, yes. One modified troop carrier can’t be loaded with nearly enough soldiers to capture Glenlyon, even if both of the warships bombard the planet to support them.” Rob paused. “Oh, hell. I know what they’re planning. They want to eliminate Saber, and any chance that Glenlyon will interfere when they strike at Kosatka again. They want to force us to engage with them by threatening to eliminate our means to support a warship.”

  Chisholm’s eyes widened. “The orbital facility. They’re planning to capture it.”

  “Yes, I think so.” Rob studied the images on his display of the enemy ships more than four billion kilometers from Saber. Empty space offered no obstacles to visual sensors that could spot objects even across such immense distances, though even they were limited by the speed of light. The images that Rob could see were of where those ships had been four hours ago. “With warships to provide support fire, there should be enough soldiers on that freighter to overwhelm any defenders of our orbital facility.”

  “Captain Darcy and her Marines saved Kosatka’s orbital facility!”

  “The situation wasn’t the same,” Rob said.

  “You’re right. Darcy only had six Marines at Kosatka.” Chisholm nodded to Rob, her expression as hard as steel. “We can’t afford to lose Glenlyon’s link with space, Commander Geary. We will repel this attack, both the warships and any soldiers sent to capture the orbital facility.”

  “Those are my orders?” Rob said, feeling a heavy weight settling in his gut. “I’ll do my best, but the price we’ll pay is sure to be a high one.”

  Chisholm paused. Geary had to give her credit for that. She’d had a lot more experience in the last few years with sending people into life-or-death situations, and hadn’t become jaded about what that meant. “Those are your orders,” Chisholm finally said. “Regardless of the cost. You know why I have to demand that of you and the other defenders of Glenlyon. Commander Geary, you’re to assume immediate command of everyone and everything on the orbital facility under terms of the planetary emergency authority. Evacuate everyone who won’t be contributing to the defense of the facility and to keeping Saber able to fight. How long do we have until those enemy ships reach us?”

  “We don’t know yet what velocity they’ll accelerate to, but the freighter is going to slow them down. It’ll probably be ten days before they get here.”

  “Ten days. All right. Let me know what you need. Glenlyon is counting on you, Commander.”

  “I understand.” The call ended, Rob sat, slumping in his seat, trying not to let despair overwhelm him. What I need is an entire squadron of destroyers, and a couple of light cruisers. Hell, as long as I’m wishing, how about some heavy cruisers, and a thousand Marines?

  I don’t know any way to win this. But I have to act and speak as if there is hope, because if the crew sees me despondent they’ll lose hope, and our defeat will be quick and certain.

  “Captain?” Lieutenant Commander Shen stood in the hatch to his stateroom, gazing at him with a somber expression. “I saw the new arrivals. What’s the word for us?”

  “Fight to the death to stop this attack,” Rob
said, straightening from his slouch. With Shen he could be candid, but he still didn’t want to project despair.

  Vicki Shen closed her eyes, took a slow breath, and then shrugged. “Fine. Our orders suck, but at least they make sense.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where the hell did they get a light cruiser?”

  Rob grimaced. “It’s a Leader Class ship. So they got it from Earth Fleet.”

  “Decommissioned and disposed of as surplus,” Shen added, her bitter gaze fixed on Rob’s display. “Sold cheap to warlords many light years from Earth, so no one there has to feel guilty about fueling wars on the far frontiers.”

  “You’ll have to let me know everything you can about Leader Class ships. Anything that might help us in a fight with one.” He paused, thinking. “If Leigh Camagan can make it to Old Earth, she’ll get us at least one light cruiser as well.”

  “It’ll take her months, and months more for the trip back here,” Shen said. “How are we going to cope with this threat we’re facing now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We can’t beat those odds, sir.”

  “Not in any way I know of,” Rob agreed. “But we’re going to go down fighting.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Being commodore in charge of space defenses and being captain of the Saber had been more than enough work for Rob. Having control of the entire orbital facility handed to him could’ve been overwhelming.

  Fortunately, he knew most of the important people on the facility from his years working in charge of the space dock. The officers in charge of Life Support and Structure Maintenance. The people running the space dock, who’d once worked for him. The warehouse managers. The company officials in charge of enterprises ranging from variable gravity manufacturing to nanomechs to the meager offerings of the small food court. The head of the station’s school for the children in the families that lived up here. The local civilian representative of Glenlyon’s government. Orbital facilities weren’t ships. Once they were positioned near something, they tended to stay in about the same orbits. But they needed many of the same specialists as ships did, while also serving as the equivalent of small towns, bigger towns, and, in places like Old Earth and the Old Colonies, massive structures that could be considered cities in space.

  Rob knew which of those people he needed to talk to. He also knew how to delegate, a task made easier since most of the people he talked to had to be given the same orders to carry out. Identify those critical to the operation of the facility, those who couldn’t be spared until the last minute. Prepare everyone else for immediate evacuation down to the planet. Make sure families went first. Provide lists of anything that might help in defense of the facility. Get everything else that could be moved in the time available down to the surface. Request civilian volunteers with critical skills to stay on the station right up until the fighting started in order to keep things working as long as possible.

  Once Mele Darcy had arrived at the facility, he put her in charge of planning and organizing the defenses, as well as maintaining order and commanding all security personnel. Since she’d run the facility’s small police force for years Rob knew Mele could get that done without his worrying about any of it.

  Messages started coming in from the planet below, where the government had begun the same process in the towns and one city that made up the human presence on the surface of that world. So far warships owned by Apulu, Scatha, or Turan hadn’t been caught carrying out indiscriminate bombardment of towns and cities. They’d used the sort of small projectiles dropped from orbit that could annihilate whatever they hit, but weren’t big enough to cause widespread damage. No one was supposed to use large projectiles that created massive destruction and could turn an entire city into a crater. Those sorts of weaponized meteors had done enough havoc at a few places on Old Earth to scare even violence-prone humanity enough to ban such weapons.

  But legally banning something wasn’t the same as getting rid of it. Someone had used weapons almost that bad at one settled world, employing an old Warrior Class destroyer, and just who had been responsible was never determined. As unthinkable as such an atrocity should be, Rob knew why the government had to consider the chance it might happen.

  And Rob knew that in part the government had to think about it because as commander of space defenses he was supposed to prevent such a thing from happening, and could not. The guilt tore at him as he viewed the images from the planet below, a distraction when he needed to focus on what was happening and what needed to be done.

  Vehicles were being mobilized, anything that could move overland and carry any people or cargo. Warehouses were being emptied out, and food supplies dispersed into the forests that would hinder any attempts to spot targets from orbit. News reports showed people preparing to evacuate, most looking worried. Rob wondered how long it would be before their resolve to stay free withered under hardship. The Glenlyon Homeland Party that advocated “necessary compromises” with Apulu, Scatha, and Turan had been growing in support despite widespread rumors that it was being secretly funded by those enemy star systems. Would this give another boost to that group by bringing home the cost of continuing to resist a takeover?

  Or would the resolve to keep fighting strengthen? From what he knew of Old Earth’s history, people were often pretty irrational when attacked and bombarded. Instead of giving in, they became more determined to keep fighting.

  But being determined to fight and succeeding in that fight could be two very different things.

  Rob finally tore himself away from his other responsibilities to hasten through the facility to his living quarters.

  He found Ninja sitting in front of her work screens, their daughter Dani, who only answered to Little Ninja, playing nearby. “Hey, sailor,” Ninja greeted him.

  Rob didn’t waste time he didn’t have. “The government has ordered—”

  “I know,” Ninja said, waving one hand at her displays. “It’s still way too easy to crack into the government’s comm systems.”

  “Why aren’t you getting ready to go?”

  She threw a flat look at him. “I’m essential personnel.”

  “This isn’t the time to—!”

  “Yes, it is!” Both noticed Little Ninja staring and lowered their voices. “I was in Alfar’s fleet, Rob,” Ninja continued. “Before you helped kick me out, remember? I can see what we’re facing and I know what that means. Your chances of stopping those guys with Saber are pretty much zero, right?”

  “Yeah,” Rob admitted, feeling his guts tighten again.

  “We have to even the odds, and the only additional weapon you have to do that with is me.”

  He shook his head. “I know you’re the best hacker in this star system—”

  “I’m the best anywhere.”

  “Fine. It’s still long odds that you’ll be able to crack into the enemy systems. They’ve been strengthening those ever since you helped us capture Squall.”

  She surprised him with a smile. “Oh, Rob, you still have no idea what I can do when I’m properly motivated.”

  Frustrated, Rob pointed to her swollen abdomen. “You’re not much more than a month away from being due. And what about Little Ninja?”

  “I can do a lot in a month. And the Parentis can take Little Ninja down with them. Sort of an extended sleepover for her with their daughter.” She said it lightly, as if it were no big deal to send their daughter down to the planet without either of them while enemy warships approached, but Rob saw the fear Ninja was trying to hide.

  He felt that same fear, magnified by his failed responsibility for preventing such things. “I don’t have time—” Rob began, trying not to sound angry.

  “Then why are you wasting time on an argument with me that you know you can’t win?” The unspoken message behind her words couldn’t be clearer. Ninja hated
this, too, and didn’t want to debate it. But she wouldn’t give in.

  He gazed at her, knowing who he’d married, grateful for that, but also at the moment extremely aggravated by his fears for her and their daughter. “I guess we’re going to fight this battle together.”

  “Damn right we are. Get back to work. I’ll let you know when Little Ninja is heading off on her long-term playdate so you can help send her off.” Ninja let her facade drop for a moment, worry openly flashing in her eyes as she gazed at him. “Don’t be a hero.”

  “You’re telling me that? When you won’t evacuate to the surface?”

  “I’ll go when they’re getting close,” Ninja conceded. “Mele already told me if I didn’t she’d personally drag me onto the last shuttle down. Little Ninja won’t be alone down there for very long.”

  Relieved, Rob headed back to Saber, wishing that Leigh Camagan had left months ago, and hoping that she was still all right.

  There wasn’t any way he knew of that Leigh could bring help in time to save him. But maybe she’d be able to bring help to someday avenge him and the others who’d very likely soon die trying to defend Glenlyon.

  * * *

  • • •

  Lochan Nakamura nerved himself to walk onto a waiting shuttle at Eire’s orbital facility. After the assassination attempts and the security officer’s concerns about sabotage to shuttles, Lochan wasn’t feeling particularly secure. Even worse, memories of the shuttle crash that he and Carmen had endured when first arriving at Kosatka kept jostling to the front of his mind.

  “Nervous?” Freya Morgan asked Lochan as he strapped into his seat on the shuttle. They along with Leigh Camagan were the only ones in the passenger compartment, but none felt any urge to spread out, instead sitting close together.

  “Yes,” Lochan admitted.

  “So am I. But the nice thing about shuttles is that if something goes seriously wrong we’ll probably be dead before we have time to realize we’re in trouble.” Freya paused. “That’s not really reassuring, is it?”